On the Surface
by Valdryfor
Summary: When MacCready told the Sole Survivor his story, he left out several important parts...


He left out the part where he had met Lucy twice.

The first time they ever saw each other, their eyes locked over the barrel of the sniper rifle he had pointed at her head. Back then, he saw her as an intruder, someone older; an adult; a _mungo_. Seven years of an age gap made little difference in the long run, but to a twelve-year-old boy with a survivalist mentality and premature responsibility, a nineteen-year-old young woman came from a completely separate world.

He remembered the way he antagonized her at every turn. Petty jabs at her physical appearance—dark eyes slanted, short black hair gathered into two messy braids, petite frame too small to make it out in the Wastes. His mouth spat enough curse words to melt the ears off a raider. He did it all to try to run her out of Little Lamplight for good. At the time, he either failed to understand or outright disregarded the dire nature of the mission she carried on her shoulders.

The second time they met, five years had passed. Everyone in the Capital knew her by now. The clean water they drank cost more than they could know. He only learned how much when he crossed paths with her again. On a sunny day at Canterbury Commons, he celebrated his seventeenth birthday by stumbling, hungover, into the diner and tripping over someone's crutches. He picked himself up from the floor and turned around to snarl at the person on the barstool.

She sat there, missing one leg above the knee, her expression gentle and sad as she apologized for the inconvenience.

He left out the part where he fell for Lucy—hard.

He had never considered himself an upstanding guy, but being around her made him want to do better, try harder. The toll of the Brotherhood-Enclave war reflected in every facet of her eyes, and despite her status as the Capital's savior, she removed herself from the limelight on purpose, rejecting the accolades in order to live a quiet, secluded life. He somehow wedged himself into it, finding that he enjoyed her company even though she never did let him forget how much of a little shit he was before. The assessment was fair, after all. Plus, she smiled whenever she said it, and he liked the light in her gaze.

The truth of his intermittent merc profession hid under the guise of a soldier story. Of course she never bought it—only two factions in the Capital employed soldiers, and she had joined one and wiped out the other. Still, she humored him and never called him out on the fib. Even the most blind of ferals could see his desperate attempts to impress her. She possessed traits he could only dream of obtaining: valor, integrity, honor, temperance. He relied on her, valued her, respected her.

And eventually, he loved her.

He left out the part where Lucy rejected his proposal.

They remained friends for a year, and then lovers after that. Insecurities plagued them the instant it became romantic. He feared she still saw him as a child. She never believed he could find an amputee beautiful. Their relationship went through thick and thin, but even given the challenges, their commitment stayed strong. So when she became pregnant, he asked her to marry him.

She said no. Once, twice, three times, ten times. He would ask, she'd decline. When prompted for a reason, she declared herself ill-suited for marriage. Compromised though her mobility may be, a wanderer never changed. He refused that answer. With a child on the way, they both knew she wouldn't be going anywhere. Finally, she asked why he even wanted to marry her. Simple, he said—he wanted to call her his wife.

They said their vows one month before their son, Duncan, was born.

He left out the part where Lucy chose his life over hers.

They embodied the picture of the ideal family for a while, and he hadn't known true happiness before then or ever since. From child 'mayor,' to merc, to husband, to father. He recognized the changes in his own mentality and character as the years went by. Still flawed and rough around the edges, but he did the best that he could.

It was he who suggested they relocate to Vault 101 when it finally opened for good. More security for Duncan, who showed signs of an unidentified illness. He witnessed the reluctance in Lucy's face, but she saw what it meant to him. After a few days, they packed what they could carry and made the trek for her old home.

He left out the part where sentient ghouls, not ferals, tore Lucy to shreds.

The ambush awaited them in one of the metro tunnels toward the west. Ghouls who held a grudge against the Lone Wanderer for some sort of misunderstanding he only later learned about. They cited Tenpenny Tower and Aqua Cura as her transgressions, and attacked without mercy. He fumbled his weapon—crucial mistake. Handicapped by her missing limb, she made a decision and pushed Duncan toward him.

" _Take him and go," she had cried. "My borrowed time is already up."_

He left out the part where he failed as a single father.

He made it to Vault 101 in a blaze of déjà vu for the inhabitants. Over twenty years before, another father had sought shelter for himself and his child. Ironic and curious that the familial line continued in the same way for his and Lucy's son.

Duncan's health never improved, and he had all but given up hope. A trip to the advanced medications up north offered the last chance for his son's survival. He made the hardest decision of his life.

He left his only child behind.

Now, here he was in the Commonwealth, companion to Nora, another Vault dweller. Her similarities to Lucy ended there—she was actually more similar to him. Widowed and driven to the ends of the Earth for her son. Yes, he understood that. They followed a very parallel road.

But just as he had left out several parts of his story, she kept details about hers under wraps. Her recent visit to the Institute had left her quieter, more somber. She wouldn't say what happened, what she saw or experienced. But her son Shaun rarely came up again even as she helped obtain the medication for Duncan.

He wondered what had changed. If anything, he knew the development on his end. He never thought he'd find someone else after Lucy. But then Nora walked into his life. He already saw the makings of a hero there; heroes must be his type. He couldn't believe she was some pre-War law graduate, considering how well she matched his shots. For his part, he may just be some lowly grunt from the Capital, but if she would have him, he'd do everything he could to deserve her. Maybe someday they could fill the missing gaps in their stories.

The truth always lingered, no matter what resided on the surface.


End file.
